


ZIMMERMAN

by mac__ren



Category: American (US) Actor RPF, BlacKkKlansman (2018), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Adam Driver Smut, Addiction, Alcohol, Alcohol Withdrawal, Alpha Flip Zimmerman, Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Colorado, Dom Flip Zimmerman, Drugs, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gun Violence, Guns, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Original Character(s), POV Flip Zimmerman, References to Drugs, Self-Harm, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29492481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mac__ren/pseuds/mac__ren
Summary: After Joe is in a traumatic and compromised position, she is left to face her problems head on, but will she be successful when her life takes a sharp turn?
Relationships: Flip Zimmerman/Reader, Flip Zimmerman/You





	ZIMMERMAN

**Author's Note:**

> Just please know that things mentioned in this story are not for everyone and please be aware of that as you move forward with reading this story.

Escaping criminals was your forte. It was your life actually. Working at the Colorado Springs Police Department proved to be a great career fit for you. It was so exhilarating. Every day was different, and being the only female cop there, you were placed at a higher standard. You constantly needed to prove to the chief that you were built for this lifestyle. You needed results, and you were gonna damn sure get them.

You were currently running away from some gang that compromised you. You didn't have an assigned partner, so you were running this gig solo. You were breathless and your lungs burned from lack of oxygen. You had to find a way out of this mess before you were caught, cut up into small pieces, and fed to the mutts they were housing. You finally somehow managed to escape the seven, bulky, meaty men who were running after you. Making a quick pit stop at the payphone, shielding your bloody face from as much public consumption, you called one of your closest friend's number, Flip.

Flip and you have been friends ever since you started working at CSPD. He was intimidating, but once you got to know him, he was nothing but kind. He was also super nice to look at, but that's beside the point. 

The ringing in your ear was giving you a headache, but you hoped it would come to an end soon.

> "Hello?"

> "Flip, oh thank God." You muttered breathlessly.

> "Why the hell are you out of breath- actually, don't answer that, because I don't want to know." 

> "You're so weird, but I need you to come and pick me up."

> "Wait, aren't you undercover right now? Why are you calling me?"

> "Yes, I am undercover, but I am not anymore considering I've been compromised."

> "Where are you?" He asked lowly.

> "Cornwallis and 3rd. In front of Rick's."

> "Be there in ten."

You quickly hung up the phone and tried not to wince as the pain from the cut on your side that was beginning to sting. Your adrenaline was wearing off, which meant that you would soon feel the full effects of your injury if Flip didn't hurry the hell up. 

You decided that a quick costume change was due, so you stripped yourself out of your thick coat and your overshirt, leaving you in your black tank-top that was becoming sticky with your blood. You also decided to pull your hair out of that tight pony-tail that was contributing to your headache. You sat on the bench, trying to conceal your injury with your arm as best as possible as blood began to drip heavily down your arm and onto the bench. 

A few minutes passed, and that familiar red and white Chevrolet truck pulled into the parking space directly ahead of you. You hopped off of the bench as fast as humanly possible. You tried to make as little eye contact as possible.

Once the door shut, the engine was alive again and the truck pulled off. You notice him staring at you from the corner of your eyes. He sees the blood on your hands as you try to tuck them under your thighs.

> "What the hell did you get yourself into now?" His voice vibrated through the car. 

> "I mean, _nothing_ really. They just discovered who I actually am and who I work for, but it's not really a big deal." You say as you try to hide your bloody arm. 

> "How many times do I have to tell you to _be careful_." 

> "I was...kinda."

> "Jesus, you are something else, Joe"
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> "It's not like I wanted it to happen, nor did I mean for it to."

> "You bring a whole new meaning to the word, how do I put this lightly," He looked around as he bit his lip in thought, " _quirky_." He smiles at you. 

> You scoff, "I like to think of myself as more of a whimsical being." You wince at the pain in your side. 

> "What the hell was that?" He says in a more concerned tone, hands waving towards your side. 

> "It's just a cut," you slowly pull up your shirt to reveal your wound. "Okay maybe a little bit worse than just a cut."

> "Holy shit, Joe." He looks at your wound and bloody arm as he pulls out his phone from his back pocket.

> "Wait, what the hell are you doing?"

> "I'm calling the station to let them know that I'm taking you to the hospital."

> "That won't be necessary, Zimmerman."

> "Would you _look at_ yourself? Your bleeding, and your going to the hospital, and there is nothing you can do about it." 

You huff and drop the hem of the tank-top from your grasp and lean back in the seat. 

> "You know, you care wayyyyyy too much." Your words started to slur and your body began to react the way it does when you're tipsy. 

After a few minutes of watching the road blur past you and Flip's mumbled words on the phone, you began to realize that your injuries were taking a toll on your body. The seat was covered in blood and your butt was sticky with it as well. You felt bad for Flip's car seats, considering he took such great care of his truck. 

He parked the car and hung up the phone as he looked over at you. His hand on your shoulder was enough to knock you out of your trance. Your eyes were watery as you looked at his brown orbs and took in how much emotion he betrayed through the solid color. 

> "Joe, are you okay?" His words blended but you were still able to make out what he was saying. You giggled in response as he lifted your shirt to see the damage and take it in now that he wasn't driving. 

> "Okay, um Joe, we're here at the hospital, okay, but we've got to get you out." He says hurriedly.

It was your favorite part of the day, the sun was setting but it still wasn't entirely night. Everything was blue and the lights of buildings and cars were elevated but still dim. It was when you would admire the small city from your apartment window, except now you had to deal with doctors and the worrying and all the extra bullshit. 

As he got out of the car, you took this small fragment of time to look out beyond the windshield and admire the hospital lights and the way the night sky complimented them. You felt the tears roll down your cheeks involuntarily as the pain, that was once unbearable, became faint. You smile at the combination of glittering lights until you were rudely interrupted by your brooding best friend. 

> "C'mon Joe, get out." He said, slightly leaning inside the car. 

  
  


> You just rolled your head across the headrest until your eyes landed on him and you smiled again. "Your pretty," you say, on the verge of giggling. 

> "Alright," he says smiling as he leans in to grab your body from the sticky, smelly car seat.

  
  


> He wraps one arm under your knees and one around your back as he effortlessly picks you up off the seat. "I cannot _believe_ you're making me do this." He says sarcastically. 

You giggle even more at that statement as your friend kicks the door shut with his foot and begins to jog towards the entrance of the ER. 

You couldn't really remember what else happened after that, but you could feel all the hands that were touching you, and pulling your clothes off. At some point, they just ended up cutting your tank-top off completely, leaving you feeling embarrassed in front of your colleague as they wheeled you to the surgery unit on a stretcher. 

You gave in to your body's urge to sleep, leaving you with an uncertain future.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I love you all!!❤️


End file.
